Becca Newcomb

Haunted House begins!-

FUMC Katy Youth Yell! All the info you need about what's coming up with FUMC Katy Youth

Connections
Puzzle #267
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Connections
Puzzle #190
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Just a few reminders: as we step into a day that can be as difficult or even painful for some as it is celebratory and lovely for others.

Being a mother, or a wife, isn’t the only, highest, or best calling for a woman. Your calling is unique to you and it is holy and blessed and we are all blessed by the way you have answered that call.

Remember that social media is someone else’s highlights reel of their best moments, often curated and crafted. Don’t compare your real life to their reel life.

It’s ok to be honest about your own rough relationship with your mom or your grief at the loss, lack, or whatever else of that relationship. And in the midst of your grief or complicated feelings please remember you are not alone and you are so lovable and loved.

For those grieving empty arms, prayers that feel unanswered, or loss too great to name, you are seen, your pain matters, you are precious, worthy, and loved. You are not broken nor are you forsaken. Be gentle with yourself and do whatever you need to tomorrow to care for yourself.

However this day finds you, know you are loved and not alone.

When I talk about family ministry, in place of youth ministry or Children’s ministry, I’m definitely not excluding age-specific gatherings. But I am definitely talking about gatherings that model the possible joys and fun of a good family life- like separate activities in the same space so everyone can do things that they enjoy, getting to know each other better, having child-like play in sprinklers and on swings, and even cleaning up after our meal together. And it does absolutely mean getting cozy at the end of the day and sharing things we are celebrating and asking for things when we need prayer.

When I started in ministry I had such hard and fast time lines and guidelines. Now I think a family approach is best. Now I think relaxed and welcoming space where you are known, celebrated, and loved. It’s not a ploy or a gimmick or an attempt to get 100 people in the door. It’s just a way to love people in a way that is bigger than each of us- love them with Christ’s love which actually is unconditional. And often involves food.

I used to love Ash Wednesday. It is such a holy space where we are honest with ourselves, individually and communally, about our mortality and fragility. Then I became a pastor and I was the one imposing the ashes, looking into the faces of people I had come to know and love and reminding them of their mortality. I do not enjoy that. It still feels holy but I’m always ready to rush to the Easter part, the resurrection part. I don’t want to linger here in the wilderness of brokenness and mortality. I know (honestly I swear I know) that this is important. But I struggle. And then I became a mom. A mom with anxiety who has struggled with such deep fear over my beloved baby’s fragility. There have been nights when I have chanted over and over “he is strong, he is healthy, he is fine. You can sleep.” I know that right now I could not place ashes on his forehead. I am weak in the face of this fear. So the ashes on my own head tonight don’t just remind me of my death, they remind me of my weakness- my inability to control, to really protect, to make it all ok. I cannot save my self, my people, or even my son. So tonight, I am really thankful for the Son of God who has lingered with me in all my fear and sleepless nights, who sees my fragility and brokenness and still calls me beloved. I am thankful for Jesus the Christ who can, and has, through his own life, death, and resurrection, saved my beloveds. I guess for Lent I’m going to linger, not in fear, but in learning again how fear becomes hope and how worry becomes peace when we die to the lies and live again with Christ.

I had the pleasure and privilege of getting to teach and preach at the the Parkway UMC Women’s retreat this weekend. I love the company of women and the women on this retreat were funny, warm, and thoughtful. And getting to experience it with my mom and sister was a beautiful gift.

I won’t say I came home rested (5 teaching sessions in a weekend is no joke y’all) but I did come home full and fueled. It wasn’t so long ago where I believed that ministry had to be exhausting and draining if you were doing it “justice”. I’m so grateful for weekends and opportunities like this that remind me that when we live into our calling we may be physically tired at the end of the day but our spirits should be burning bright.

Thanks for helping me glow again this weekend, new friends. It was a blessing.

21 candles on the altar. 21 tolls of the bell.

Of course we pray, because there is power when we meet our Creator. But part of my prayer is that we would pray with our words AND our work. Mostly I pray that God’s holy work would be done in my heart and yours that we might be able to better love and serve one another.

There’s no such thing as other people’s children in the Kingdom of God.

They were someone’s precious child. Our precious child. Someone’s miracle baby. Someone’s beloved. Our miracle, our beloved.

No more hollow prayers while we hold tightly to our false idols. No more dramatic shock while we watch the same cycle repeat over and over. Love with more than words, love with actions. Put your body and even your “freedom” between our children and the bullets and bullies that come for them. Surrender a little so that we don’t lose our little ones. Stop believing lies and choose to love with more than thoughts and good wishes. These are your children. Your sons. Your daughters. Your beloved littles who hover under desks as bullets ring out over their heads.

Our grief will never end but by the grace of God surely our work can begin. Let the church go to our Christ-given work and lay down what we must, confront and pick up what we must, and love our children well.